Yay! Celebration! Party! Cheeseburgers for everyone! Did you see? Did you see the title? I have a topic! Right there, right off the bat. You come in here, see that title, and bam! You know what it’s all about. How cool is that? And just look at that title. Animals. Do you see how much thought I put into that? It took me forever to think of it. I had to find the perfect topic title that was very narrow and focused so that you would know exactly what I’m talking about. I think I did a pretty good job with, if I do say so myself. I mean, how much more focused can you get?
So I am going to be talking about animals. All the way. Animals animals animals. Like your cute little doggy, or kitty, or bunny, or guinea piggy, or birdie, or fishy, or, if you’re really strange, your polly-woggy. Anyway, I have a doggy, and I love her to death. She’s so fugly! Just so you know, that is a term of great endearment in my family. Contrary to what some people might say. I’m not gonna mention any names. You know who you are (I hope). My dog is fugly, and she’s proud of it. As am I. Oh, I also have a kitty, but he’s an evil little bugger who kills birdies. Nasty blighter he is. Love him to death.
But household animals are so boring, aren’t they? Let’s get to the interesting ones, like saber tooth tigers! Diego is one awesome saber tooth tiger. He’s got those saber teeths and all. They’re all teethy and sabery. Sharp and pointy too, no doubt.
Speaking of tigers, who doesn’t love Tigger? He’s such a loveable bouncing bugger. Boingy boingy boingy! Who can watch him bounce around and not want to go get one of those bouncy balls with the handle and join him? Not me. And I hope not you either. Not bouncing takes all the fun out of life. Like, I went to this dance thingy a few nights ago and I did the first dance with my sister. Now if we had been able to skip merrily along to see the Wizard of Oz, it would have been awesome. But no, we had to be all formal and junk and just walk and it was Boring! With a capital B! Which is what happens if you don’t Bounce (or skip at the very least). So Be like Tigger and Bounce!
Getting Back to the animals, cows are amazing creatures. You know why? Because they give us cheeseburgers! Now how many of you were able to guess that? If you weren’t, don’t worry. It doesn’t show anything about your psychological mindset either way. Well, actually, it might, if you were actually able to guess that… Anyway! Another cool thing about cows is their awesome spelling skills. Chick-Fil-A commercials are some of the best food chain commercials. Geico, however, has the best commercials overall. That gecko’s Australian accent is awesome. And since he’s an animal, he’s also on topic, so I can talk about him all I want, which just adds to his awesomeness.
Oooo! Animal related math question. If a woodchuck could chuck wood how much wood would a woodchuck chuck? And if you know the real answer to that, like, if you’ve gotten the answer from a woodchuck, you’re amazing. Because, and not many people know this, woodchucks are incredibly picky about the people they talk to. When I tried to talk to some, they had plenty to say, but it sounded mostly like “Get off our lawn!” and “#%!$@&%@”. And then they chucked wood at me. It was not a fun experience, although a most memorable one.
Okay, I’m pretty proud of myself here. I stuck to my topic throughout this whole thing. You might say that the thing about bouncing or skipping was off topic, but I would contest that because Tigger bounces, and he’s an animal, so it all ties together. Just don’t think about it too hard. That’s my motto. If it seems confusing, stop thinking so much. That, and be nice to animals.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Escape and Rescue
(When we last left Fred, he was escaping from the non-PEANUT terrorists that had captured him and had run into a little trouble with an alligator)
Fred tried to push the alligator off. “Blurgh! I said get off me!”
Again the alligator obeyed and rolled off. Then the men came around the corner, running full out.
“Sic ‘em!” Fred yelled.
The alligator let out a roar and rumbled forward. The men skidded to a stopped and fell in a heap, then scrambled over each other, desperately trying to get away. Both the men and the alligator soon disappeared around the corner, but a high pitched scream told Fred that not all the men had gotten home free.
Since there was no place else to go, Fred hurried after the alligator. He found it chewing on a pair of pants, looking very satisfied with itself.
“Hey,” Fred said. “Don’t eat that. It’s not good for you.”
He took hold of a pant leg that was hanging out of the alligator’s mouth and tried to pull it away, but the alligator jerked his head a little and pulled the leg out of Fred’s hands.
“Fine, be that way. But if you get sick and die, don’t come crying to me.”
With a definite snap of his jaws, the alligator finished off the pants.
“Okay, now that you’ve finished your little snack, how do we get out of here?”
There was only one way to go, down the hallway, but the alligator took his time, swinging his head back and forth, sniffing the air. After a while, he decided and lumbered off, up the hallway, in the direction of his tank.
Fred walked alongside him, trying to argue. “Wait, you can’t go back there. We gotta get out of here.”
The alligator gave a shake of his head and kept walking.
Fred tried again. “But it’s a dead end back there.”
The alligator ignored him.
Fred gave up. Arguing with an alligator is like arguing with a stone wall. A few seconds later and they were back in the room with the alligator tank. Instead of hopping back into the tank, the alligator went to the middle of the room, and stopped. Fred looked around.
“What now, genius?” he asked.
In answer, one of the walls blew up. Well, not the whole wall. Just a man sized hole. As if he had been expecting it, the alligator went out of the hole. Fred followed, a bit mystified. Outside was an alleyway, bare except for a single black car. The alligator hopped into the trunk, which was standing opened, and it closed behind him.
The back door opened and someone with a British accent said, “Hop in, Fred.”
Fred did so, simply because he couldn’t think of anything better to do. Once he shut the door behind him, the car started moving. In the seat next to him was a man with short brown hair, matching eyes, wearing a suit.
Fred said the first thing that came to mind. “I want my alligator.”
The man laughed. “He’s actually our alligator. Alexander is a very good boy.”
“Alexander?”
“That’s the alligator’s name.”
“Oh.” Fred looked down at his feet. “So I can’t have him?”
“We might be able to arrange something. Depending on whether or not you accept our job offer.”
Fred was puzzled. “Job offer?”
The man nodded. “Yes. The one we offered you when you were in the States. Even gave you the plane ticket that got you here.”
“Oooooohhhhhhh,” Fred nodded. “Now I remember.”
The man smiled. “Good.”
“So who are you, exactly?”
“My name is John Smith and I am head of M007.”
Fred gaped at him.
To be continued….
Fred tried to push the alligator off. “Blurgh! I said get off me!”
Again the alligator obeyed and rolled off. Then the men came around the corner, running full out.
“Sic ‘em!” Fred yelled.
The alligator let out a roar and rumbled forward. The men skidded to a stopped and fell in a heap, then scrambled over each other, desperately trying to get away. Both the men and the alligator soon disappeared around the corner, but a high pitched scream told Fred that not all the men had gotten home free.
Since there was no place else to go, Fred hurried after the alligator. He found it chewing on a pair of pants, looking very satisfied with itself.
“Hey,” Fred said. “Don’t eat that. It’s not good for you.”
He took hold of a pant leg that was hanging out of the alligator’s mouth and tried to pull it away, but the alligator jerked his head a little and pulled the leg out of Fred’s hands.
“Fine, be that way. But if you get sick and die, don’t come crying to me.”
With a definite snap of his jaws, the alligator finished off the pants.
“Okay, now that you’ve finished your little snack, how do we get out of here?”
There was only one way to go, down the hallway, but the alligator took his time, swinging his head back and forth, sniffing the air. After a while, he decided and lumbered off, up the hallway, in the direction of his tank.
Fred walked alongside him, trying to argue. “Wait, you can’t go back there. We gotta get out of here.”
The alligator gave a shake of his head and kept walking.
Fred tried again. “But it’s a dead end back there.”
The alligator ignored him.
Fred gave up. Arguing with an alligator is like arguing with a stone wall. A few seconds later and they were back in the room with the alligator tank. Instead of hopping back into the tank, the alligator went to the middle of the room, and stopped. Fred looked around.
“What now, genius?” he asked.
In answer, one of the walls blew up. Well, not the whole wall. Just a man sized hole. As if he had been expecting it, the alligator went out of the hole. Fred followed, a bit mystified. Outside was an alleyway, bare except for a single black car. The alligator hopped into the trunk, which was standing opened, and it closed behind him.
The back door opened and someone with a British accent said, “Hop in, Fred.”
Fred did so, simply because he couldn’t think of anything better to do. Once he shut the door behind him, the car started moving. In the seat next to him was a man with short brown hair, matching eyes, wearing a suit.
Fred said the first thing that came to mind. “I want my alligator.”
The man laughed. “He’s actually our alligator. Alexander is a very good boy.”
“Alexander?”
“That’s the alligator’s name.”
“Oh.” Fred looked down at his feet. “So I can’t have him?”
“We might be able to arrange something. Depending on whether or not you accept our job offer.”
Fred was puzzled. “Job offer?”
The man nodded. “Yes. The one we offered you when you were in the States. Even gave you the plane ticket that got you here.”
“Oooooohhhhhhh,” Fred nodded. “Now I remember.”
The man smiled. “Good.”
“So who are you, exactly?”
“My name is John Smith and I am head of M007.”
Fred gaped at him.
To be continued….
Monday, January 23, 2012
A Topic
I really hate not having a topic. It’s annoying. You can only write so much random junk before it ceases to be funny and becomes just that. Random junk. And I’ve churned out quite a bit of that, therefore I think I need something else now. Something new, something fresh. Like a topic. That would be a welcome change, wouldn’t you say?
The only thing is that writing with a topic is so much harder. It takes concentration and deep thought, something you might have noticed lacking in my previous posts. It’s also something I need to do more, and this blog is the perfect way to help me do it. Therefore you will now be subjected to tedious posts that have topics and will no doubt be bereft of humor. I’m so sorry. This is just the way it has to be.
Now, on with the topic!
Today, how’s about music? I like music. Music is awesome. I love some good hard rock, like Red, Thousand Foot Krutch, and Demon Hunter, but there are times when I get in the mood for lighter, more flippant stuff. In which case I turn to the Killdares. Celtic rock. It’s pretty cool stuff.
While music is just awesome in general, it is very useful too. It can shape my mood, or match it, so easily. It’s amazing. I want to get a file of depressing, energetic, angry, passive, and sad music, all separate though. Mixing those genres together wouldn’t work to well. But separately, they would be so useful. It would be a lot easier to get into the type of writing moods I want/need if I had the music to match. I already have semi angry music and plenty of energetic stuff, but the closest I get to sad or depressing stuff is a slight melancholy. I need something stronger than that, I just don’t know where to go to get it (or, rather, what to search on iTunes). It’s something of a conundrum. But I won’t make a kerfuffle* about it. If you know some good, depressing music, though, I’ll take any suggestions.
On a rather different track concerning music, I recently decided that Spanish music has got some good stuff. Particularly the song, A Dios Le Pido. Now I’m pretty sure that means, I Pray to God. Not positive, but pretty sure. Whatever it means, though, it’s a good song. I don’t understand anything the dude says, but the music is awesome, and his incomprehensible words fit right in. That’s important. That the words fit. I don’t generally listen to the lyrics when decided whether I like a song or not, by they have to flow with the music, or they’re ruin the song. Like one band I know. They’ve got great music, but the lyrics suck. Well, not so much the lyrics as the way he sings them. He just roars them out, with no thought to melody or rhythm. Makes good music bad. Luckily that’s not the majority.
Oh darn. I was afraid of this. I stuck to the topic of music, yes, but utterly failed at injecting it with humor, now didn’t I? The fact I didn’t really try might have something to do with that, just maybe. Topics are serious stuff though, y’know? Gotta treat them with respect. I was brought up as a gentleman. I must show respect in all things. However this is a habit I will try to break for your sake, and make fun of serious topics. Next week you shall know whether I succeeded or not.
*Commotion
The only thing is that writing with a topic is so much harder. It takes concentration and deep thought, something you might have noticed lacking in my previous posts. It’s also something I need to do more, and this blog is the perfect way to help me do it. Therefore you will now be subjected to tedious posts that have topics and will no doubt be bereft of humor. I’m so sorry. This is just the way it has to be.
Now, on with the topic!
Today, how’s about music? I like music. Music is awesome. I love some good hard rock, like Red, Thousand Foot Krutch, and Demon Hunter, but there are times when I get in the mood for lighter, more flippant stuff. In which case I turn to the Killdares. Celtic rock. It’s pretty cool stuff.
While music is just awesome in general, it is very useful too. It can shape my mood, or match it, so easily. It’s amazing. I want to get a file of depressing, energetic, angry, passive, and sad music, all separate though. Mixing those genres together wouldn’t work to well. But separately, they would be so useful. It would be a lot easier to get into the type of writing moods I want/need if I had the music to match. I already have semi angry music and plenty of energetic stuff, but the closest I get to sad or depressing stuff is a slight melancholy. I need something stronger than that, I just don’t know where to go to get it (or, rather, what to search on iTunes). It’s something of a conundrum. But I won’t make a kerfuffle* about it. If you know some good, depressing music, though, I’ll take any suggestions.
On a rather different track concerning music, I recently decided that Spanish music has got some good stuff. Particularly the song, A Dios Le Pido. Now I’m pretty sure that means, I Pray to God. Not positive, but pretty sure. Whatever it means, though, it’s a good song. I don’t understand anything the dude says, but the music is awesome, and his incomprehensible words fit right in. That’s important. That the words fit. I don’t generally listen to the lyrics when decided whether I like a song or not, by they have to flow with the music, or they’re ruin the song. Like one band I know. They’ve got great music, but the lyrics suck. Well, not so much the lyrics as the way he sings them. He just roars them out, with no thought to melody or rhythm. Makes good music bad. Luckily that’s not the majority.
Oh darn. I was afraid of this. I stuck to the topic of music, yes, but utterly failed at injecting it with humor, now didn’t I? The fact I didn’t really try might have something to do with that, just maybe. Topics are serious stuff though, y’know? Gotta treat them with respect. I was brought up as a gentleman. I must show respect in all things. However this is a habit I will try to break for your sake, and make fun of serious topics. Next week you shall know whether I succeeded or not.
*Commotion
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Angry Alligators
(When we last left Fred, he had been given an ultimatum by his captors to either spy on Jonathan for them, or die)
“I’ll never comply with the demands of terrorists!” Fred shouted.
The black bag was put over his head and the rough hands grabbed him.
“The alligators will be well fed tonight, then,” the voice said.
“Wait! No! You can’t feed me to alligators, can you?”
“We’re terrorists, remember? We’ll do as we please. Take him away.”
Fred struggled as he was dragged away, but it was no use. The owners of the hands were just too strong.
“Guys, please,” he pleaded. “How can you throw a poor guy like me to the alligators? What did I ever do to you?”
There was no answer.
They stopped, the bag was whipped off his head, and he was tossed into a vat of water. All was still for a moment. Fred blinked, his eyes adjusting. Then the water began to churn. He screamed. There, skimming across the water, was an alligator coming straight for him. Fred began to flail blindly.
“I don’t wanna die!” he yelled. “I’m too young to die!”
His fist connected with something hard and scaly, then another hard and scaly something, then something that was softer and squishier. Whatever it was gave a yelp and began to thrash around, creating an even bigger ruckus than Fred was. Somehow, in all the confusion, Fred managed to notice that there was nothing keeping him in the water, so he quickly grabbed the side of the tank and pulled himself out. He lay on the ground, gasping for a second, then got up and took a look around. He was in a dark cavern, empty except for the alligator tank, with only one exit. Fred was about to head out it when a growl caused him to look back. An alligator was at the edge of the tank, glaring at him. One of its eyes was swollen shut.
Fred grinned nervously. “Sorry ‘bout that, big fella.”
The alligator growled again, and, in a feat of agility incredible for an alligator, leaped over the side of the tank, toward Fred. Fred gave a yelp and shot out the exit, the growls behind him urging him to greater speeds. Unfortunately for him, they also made him forget to look where he was going. He slammed straight into the back of a big man, causing him to stumble forward. But it didn’t stop there. The big man bumped into the man in front of him, causing him to stumble into the man in front of him, causing him to stumble into the man in front of him, and so on and so forth until they reached the man at the front of the line. He stumbled forward and fell on top of a very little man who had been facing the line of men.
“Get off me!” the little man yelled.
Fred recognized the voice. It was the voice that had interrogated him. At that moment, the little man looked up and saw Fred.
“What’s he doing alive?” he asked nobody in particular. “Get him!”
The fallen men jumped to their feet and charged Fred, who did the only thing he could. He turned tail and ran. But when he took a turn around a corner he came face to face with the alligator. He doubled back frantically, but the men were still coming from that direction. Angry men coming from one way, angry alligator from the other. Fred was trapped. And to make it worse, the alligator jumped on him when his back was turned. He hit the ground with a thud, driving the breath out of him, the alligator sitting on his back. The men were coming closer, but Fred had pretty much forgotten them. That happens when an alligator sits on you. And this alligator gave no inclination that he was going to move any time soon.
“Get off me you stupid bugger!” Fred yelled at it.
To his surprise, it rolled off him. He got to his knees cautiously, watching the green creature. Then it jumped on him again and…began to lick his face.
To be continued…
“I’ll never comply with the demands of terrorists!” Fred shouted.
The black bag was put over his head and the rough hands grabbed him.
“The alligators will be well fed tonight, then,” the voice said.
“Wait! No! You can’t feed me to alligators, can you?”
“We’re terrorists, remember? We’ll do as we please. Take him away.”
Fred struggled as he was dragged away, but it was no use. The owners of the hands were just too strong.
“Guys, please,” he pleaded. “How can you throw a poor guy like me to the alligators? What did I ever do to you?”
There was no answer.
They stopped, the bag was whipped off his head, and he was tossed into a vat of water. All was still for a moment. Fred blinked, his eyes adjusting. Then the water began to churn. He screamed. There, skimming across the water, was an alligator coming straight for him. Fred began to flail blindly.
“I don’t wanna die!” he yelled. “I’m too young to die!”
His fist connected with something hard and scaly, then another hard and scaly something, then something that was softer and squishier. Whatever it was gave a yelp and began to thrash around, creating an even bigger ruckus than Fred was. Somehow, in all the confusion, Fred managed to notice that there was nothing keeping him in the water, so he quickly grabbed the side of the tank and pulled himself out. He lay on the ground, gasping for a second, then got up and took a look around. He was in a dark cavern, empty except for the alligator tank, with only one exit. Fred was about to head out it when a growl caused him to look back. An alligator was at the edge of the tank, glaring at him. One of its eyes was swollen shut.
Fred grinned nervously. “Sorry ‘bout that, big fella.”
The alligator growled again, and, in a feat of agility incredible for an alligator, leaped over the side of the tank, toward Fred. Fred gave a yelp and shot out the exit, the growls behind him urging him to greater speeds. Unfortunately for him, they also made him forget to look where he was going. He slammed straight into the back of a big man, causing him to stumble forward. But it didn’t stop there. The big man bumped into the man in front of him, causing him to stumble into the man in front of him, causing him to stumble into the man in front of him, and so on and so forth until they reached the man at the front of the line. He stumbled forward and fell on top of a very little man who had been facing the line of men.
“Get off me!” the little man yelled.
Fred recognized the voice. It was the voice that had interrogated him. At that moment, the little man looked up and saw Fred.
“What’s he doing alive?” he asked nobody in particular. “Get him!”
The fallen men jumped to their feet and charged Fred, who did the only thing he could. He turned tail and ran. But when he took a turn around a corner he came face to face with the alligator. He doubled back frantically, but the men were still coming from that direction. Angry men coming from one way, angry alligator from the other. Fred was trapped. And to make it worse, the alligator jumped on him when his back was turned. He hit the ground with a thud, driving the breath out of him, the alligator sitting on his back. The men were coming closer, but Fred had pretty much forgotten them. That happens when an alligator sits on you. And this alligator gave no inclination that he was going to move any time soon.
“Get off me you stupid bugger!” Fred yelled at it.
To his surprise, it rolled off him. He got to his knees cautiously, watching the green creature. Then it jumped on him again and…began to lick his face.
To be continued…
Monday, January 16, 2012
Reflection
My family and I recently took a camping trip to Beaver’s Bend, out in Oklahoma. I discovered something there. I really enjoy the Killdares. Okay, so I already knew that one. I just re-discovered it to a greater extent. What I really discovered is that I enjoy walking alone, with my music and my thoughts as my only companions.
I learned this one day when I was greatly angerfied there. It was one of those moods where I was mad at the world in general, for various reasons, so I took my Zune, my new and fully awesome Skullcandy headphones, and just started walking. Now walking is usually something I avoid, for other various reasons, so you can imagine my surprise when I found it most relaxing and enjoyable. Out there, all by my lonesome, I was able to let it all go. There was no reason to hang on to the anger, no one to be angry with. And when you really take a good look at the things you’re angry with, you generally find that they are insubstantial. That what I was able to do.
Once I got past the anger, I simply reflected. On anything that came to mind. People, places, things. I let my imagination run, following the random strands of thought wherever they led. It was cool.
I especially enjoyed analyzing people. Their characters, their traits and quirks, trying to figure what makes them tick basically. It was most interesting. Some people were easy to read, others were more difficult. I reached some interesting conclusions, but satisfactory ones.
When I had finished with other people, I tried myself, but I don’t think it worked out to good. Likely because I didn’t try hard enough. However it’s something I need to do. The better one knows oneself, the better one is as a whole. Therefore I hope to continue my lonely sessions now that I’m back home.
It’s at this moment that I wish we lived further out in the country. I don’t think walking through the neighborhood will produce the same effect that walking beneath the trees did, with nature all around. It was so cool, at one point as I was walking the wind rustled the treetops and the leaves came fluttering down, spinning and twisting in showers. I’ve seen it before, but never appreciated it. That’s not something I can find walking the streets. But that’s just a slight defect. I don’t think it will change the overall effect. Hopefully it won’t.
Oh dear, I’m afraid I have not supplied you with much humor this time around. Ah well, this was one of the rare posts in which I reflect on a certain topic. Something I needed written out. It helps to write things out. Writing is good. Hm, looks like it’s going to be a short one, too. I guess my reflection wasn’t deep enough. My apologies if I failed to provide the entertainment I’m sure you look forward to so much when you read here. It’ll be back next week. This is just a phase. Pray I don’t have another soon.
In the meantime, you might consider taking a walk by yourself. I would suggest bringing along music, but if you do, don’t play it all the time. Turn it off sometimes to be alone with your thoughts. Go ahead, give it a whirl.
I learned this one day when I was greatly angerfied there. It was one of those moods where I was mad at the world in general, for various reasons, so I took my Zune, my new and fully awesome Skullcandy headphones, and just started walking. Now walking is usually something I avoid, for other various reasons, so you can imagine my surprise when I found it most relaxing and enjoyable. Out there, all by my lonesome, I was able to let it all go. There was no reason to hang on to the anger, no one to be angry with. And when you really take a good look at the things you’re angry with, you generally find that they are insubstantial. That what I was able to do.
Once I got past the anger, I simply reflected. On anything that came to mind. People, places, things. I let my imagination run, following the random strands of thought wherever they led. It was cool.
I especially enjoyed analyzing people. Their characters, their traits and quirks, trying to figure what makes them tick basically. It was most interesting. Some people were easy to read, others were more difficult. I reached some interesting conclusions, but satisfactory ones.
When I had finished with other people, I tried myself, but I don’t think it worked out to good. Likely because I didn’t try hard enough. However it’s something I need to do. The better one knows oneself, the better one is as a whole. Therefore I hope to continue my lonely sessions now that I’m back home.
It’s at this moment that I wish we lived further out in the country. I don’t think walking through the neighborhood will produce the same effect that walking beneath the trees did, with nature all around. It was so cool, at one point as I was walking the wind rustled the treetops and the leaves came fluttering down, spinning and twisting in showers. I’ve seen it before, but never appreciated it. That’s not something I can find walking the streets. But that’s just a slight defect. I don’t think it will change the overall effect. Hopefully it won’t.
Oh dear, I’m afraid I have not supplied you with much humor this time around. Ah well, this was one of the rare posts in which I reflect on a certain topic. Something I needed written out. It helps to write things out. Writing is good. Hm, looks like it’s going to be a short one, too. I guess my reflection wasn’t deep enough. My apologies if I failed to provide the entertainment I’m sure you look forward to so much when you read here. It’ll be back next week. This is just a phase. Pray I don’t have another soon.
In the meantime, you might consider taking a walk by yourself. I would suggest bringing along music, but if you do, don’t play it all the time. Turn it off sometimes to be alone with your thoughts. Go ahead, give it a whirl.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Informative Interrogation
(When we last left Fred, he had been grabbed by some evil people and forced to suffer horribly cliché interrogation)
“What questions?” Fred asked. “You haven’t asked any yet.”
“Well yes,” the evil voice said. “I had to establish what a dire situation you’re in first, you know.”
“Oh, right.” Fred closed his eyes against the light. “It’s established, please continue.”
Someone slammed a hand down on a table. “We will decide what happens here!”
Fred sighed. “Okay then, fine. Don’t continue and let me go.”
He had the uncomfortable feeling of someone glaring daggers at him, then the voice said, “Just shut up, boy, and answer our questions.”
“But you haven’t asked any!”
“That is immaterial! Now shut up!”
Fred glared as best he could with his eyes closed, but didn’t say anything.
“That’s better,” the voice said. “Now tell us, how did you come to be associated with Jonathan Toque?”
“Jonathan?” Fred asked. “What’s he got to do with anything?”
One of the rough hands slapped him. “We will ask the questions here! Now answer!”
Fred rubbed his cheek. “I bumped into him at the airport. While I was chasing your man, I might add, after he stole my peanuts!”
“Oh really? Our man?” The voice sounded interested.
“Yeah,” Fred scratched his head where he had an itch. “Why do you want to know?”
The hand slapped him again. “Quiet.”
Fred sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Fine.”
Then he realized what he was doing, and what it implied. His hands where untied! He had no idea how it had happened, or when it had happened, but he was free. He jumped to his feet and started to run. The escape was going perfectly, up to the point where he ran into the wall. The rough hands dragged his dazed form back to the chair under the blinding light.
“I’m afraid escape is not an option for you,” the evil voice said.
Fred gave his head a shake. “Yeah? Well just you wait. I’ll bust out of here eventually.”
“No, I really think you won’t.”
Fred tried to put on a soulful, innocent face, but it was hard under the direct light. “Then are you gonna let me go?”
“Of course. Not. We haven’t finished questioning you.”
“Oh,” Fred’s face fell. “What else do you want to know?”
“Why did you think the man who stole your peanuts was our man?”
Fred rolled his eyes. “Because he was wearing a toque. Duh.”
The voice laughed loud and long. “A PEANUT? You think we’re PEANUTs? Whatever gave you that idea?”
Fred began to tick the reasons off his fingers. “Well, let’s see. You’re evil, you kidnapped me, and, oh yeah, earlier I nearly got blow up by a PEANUT toque and was shot at by a PEANUT sniper. I think the PEANUTs are out to get me.”
The voice snorted. “You? You’re nothing but a speck of dust on their radar. The toque was probably unintentional. Whenever they change toques they blow up the old ones. And if I recall correctly, the sniper shot the attendant and left you alive.”
“Nu uh!” Fred protested. “He shot at me! After the attendant was dead.”
“A mere warning shot, to scare you while he retreated.” A finger came from somewhere and poked him in the chest. “You, my boy, are now important merely by your association with Jonathan Toque.”
“Jonathan? What’s he got to do with this? For that matter, if you’re not PEANUTs, what’d you got to do with this?”
“Jonathan Toque is quite the mysterious man, with quite the connections. And possibly the more powerful man in the world, if our suspicions are correct. Therefore we need someone to watch him. To keep us updated on his movements. Lo and behold, here you are. Not sure how you got where you are, but it suits our purposes.”
“Whoa whoa whoa,” Fred butted in. “Why would I help you?”
The voice sighed. “Have you not been listening? If you do not comply, you die.”
To be continued…
“What questions?” Fred asked. “You haven’t asked any yet.”
“Well yes,” the evil voice said. “I had to establish what a dire situation you’re in first, you know.”
“Oh, right.” Fred closed his eyes against the light. “It’s established, please continue.”
Someone slammed a hand down on a table. “We will decide what happens here!”
Fred sighed. “Okay then, fine. Don’t continue and let me go.”
He had the uncomfortable feeling of someone glaring daggers at him, then the voice said, “Just shut up, boy, and answer our questions.”
“But you haven’t asked any!”
“That is immaterial! Now shut up!”
Fred glared as best he could with his eyes closed, but didn’t say anything.
“That’s better,” the voice said. “Now tell us, how did you come to be associated with Jonathan Toque?”
“Jonathan?” Fred asked. “What’s he got to do with anything?”
One of the rough hands slapped him. “We will ask the questions here! Now answer!”
Fred rubbed his cheek. “I bumped into him at the airport. While I was chasing your man, I might add, after he stole my peanuts!”
“Oh really? Our man?” The voice sounded interested.
“Yeah,” Fred scratched his head where he had an itch. “Why do you want to know?”
The hand slapped him again. “Quiet.”
Fred sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Fine.”
Then he realized what he was doing, and what it implied. His hands where untied! He had no idea how it had happened, or when it had happened, but he was free. He jumped to his feet and started to run. The escape was going perfectly, up to the point where he ran into the wall. The rough hands dragged his dazed form back to the chair under the blinding light.
“I’m afraid escape is not an option for you,” the evil voice said.
Fred gave his head a shake. “Yeah? Well just you wait. I’ll bust out of here eventually.”
“No, I really think you won’t.”
Fred tried to put on a soulful, innocent face, but it was hard under the direct light. “Then are you gonna let me go?”
“Of course. Not. We haven’t finished questioning you.”
“Oh,” Fred’s face fell. “What else do you want to know?”
“Why did you think the man who stole your peanuts was our man?”
Fred rolled his eyes. “Because he was wearing a toque. Duh.”
The voice laughed loud and long. “A PEANUT? You think we’re PEANUTs? Whatever gave you that idea?”
Fred began to tick the reasons off his fingers. “Well, let’s see. You’re evil, you kidnapped me, and, oh yeah, earlier I nearly got blow up by a PEANUT toque and was shot at by a PEANUT sniper. I think the PEANUTs are out to get me.”
The voice snorted. “You? You’re nothing but a speck of dust on their radar. The toque was probably unintentional. Whenever they change toques they blow up the old ones. And if I recall correctly, the sniper shot the attendant and left you alive.”
“Nu uh!” Fred protested. “He shot at me! After the attendant was dead.”
“A mere warning shot, to scare you while he retreated.” A finger came from somewhere and poked him in the chest. “You, my boy, are now important merely by your association with Jonathan Toque.”
“Jonathan? What’s he got to do with this? For that matter, if you’re not PEANUTs, what’d you got to do with this?”
“Jonathan Toque is quite the mysterious man, with quite the connections. And possibly the more powerful man in the world, if our suspicions are correct. Therefore we need someone to watch him. To keep us updated on his movements. Lo and behold, here you are. Not sure how you got where you are, but it suits our purposes.”
“Whoa whoa whoa,” Fred butted in. “Why would I help you?”
The voice sighed. “Have you not been listening? If you do not comply, you die.”
To be continued…
Monday, January 9, 2012
Concerning Caterpillars
Steve! He is a caterpillar. At the current moment his origins are somewhat in doubt though. He is either descended from wooly bears, or elasticy plastic. Either way, the poor guy has no parents. Mother Nature taught him how to cope with life. Sadly, it seems she failed miserably because Steve is a quirky little fellow. Unlike most caterpillars, he has no wish to turn into a butterfly. Butterflies are girly, and Steve is a manly caterpillar. He plans to live forever, completely caterpillarly because caterpillars are tough little buggers, and Steve is the toughest of the bunch. Why, he even takes on birds and wins! I don’t know of any other caterpillar that can brag of that. He’s got some serious skills Steve does. Yes indeedy. Steve’s got the skills. Skilled Steve. Stevey skills. Skilly Stevey… He’s got a lot of legs too. Like a caterpillar… And he’s kind of fuzzy. Also like a caterpillar… He’s all, y’know, caterpillary…
All right! I admit it! I barely know anything about Steve. Except that’s he a caterpillar. I made everything else up. What else was I suppose to do? Steve won’t confide in me anymore. He’s given me the cold shoulder. His life is clouded in clouds of cloudy stuff that obscures everything. I’m not even entirely sure that he’s a caterpillar actually. I mean, he could be anything. He’s never shown himself. He’s always hiding, as if he’s afraid of something. He only communicates verbally and through the internet. Come to think of it, I don’t even know if Steve is really Steve. He might be an imposter!
Oh this is terrible, simply terrible. One moment Steve was my good buddy, my pal. The next, he’s a shadowy, threatening figure. He could be a psychopathic killer for all I know, just waiting to lure me into his trap. Or an evil dictator, using me to prepare his crusade to take over the world. Or, gasp of all gasps, he could be a caterpillar collector who is trying to get me to reveal caterpillar secrets so he can grab them all and subject them to horrible experimentation! The poor little buggers! I gotta do something. I can’t just sit idly by while little caterpillars are tortured. It just wouldn’t be right.
Okay, that’s it. Steve, you’ve got to stop right where you are. There will be no killing me, subjugating the world, or torturing the caterpillars! I’m putting my foot down here, Steve. If you don’t stop, I’ll have to do something. And it’ll be a terrible, horrible, unimaginably awful thing. You don’t want to face that, I’m warning you. It would be devastating to your health, both mental and physical. You might not be able to take it. You should back down now while I’m in a lenient mood. Maybe I’ll let you off with just a slap on the wrist. But only if you stop now! Otherwise I’ll be forced to extreme measures, and you don’t want that, I’m telling you. My wrath is a terrible thing. You should become the caterpillar you first claimed to be and live a happy, caterpillar life, free from the stress of killing, subjugating, and torturing. Wouldn’t that be nice? You bet your buttons it would be. Just think about it for a bit. Caterpillars got it made! They just go around eating leaves and stuff, with their cute little fuzziness. Sure, there’s some danger with birds and stuff, but hey, you’ve got the skills, remember? You can whoop up on them birds and be the most awesome caterpillar ever. All the other caterpillars will be like “oh man, there’s Steve. He’s the most awesomest caterpillar of all time.” And you can just smile and wave.
Yeah, that would be awesome…
Y’know, forget about it Steve. Do whatever you want. I don’t care anymore. I’m gonna go be a caterpillar!
All right! I admit it! I barely know anything about Steve. Except that’s he a caterpillar. I made everything else up. What else was I suppose to do? Steve won’t confide in me anymore. He’s given me the cold shoulder. His life is clouded in clouds of cloudy stuff that obscures everything. I’m not even entirely sure that he’s a caterpillar actually. I mean, he could be anything. He’s never shown himself. He’s always hiding, as if he’s afraid of something. He only communicates verbally and through the internet. Come to think of it, I don’t even know if Steve is really Steve. He might be an imposter!
Oh this is terrible, simply terrible. One moment Steve was my good buddy, my pal. The next, he’s a shadowy, threatening figure. He could be a psychopathic killer for all I know, just waiting to lure me into his trap. Or an evil dictator, using me to prepare his crusade to take over the world. Or, gasp of all gasps, he could be a caterpillar collector who is trying to get me to reveal caterpillar secrets so he can grab them all and subject them to horrible experimentation! The poor little buggers! I gotta do something. I can’t just sit idly by while little caterpillars are tortured. It just wouldn’t be right.
Okay, that’s it. Steve, you’ve got to stop right where you are. There will be no killing me, subjugating the world, or torturing the caterpillars! I’m putting my foot down here, Steve. If you don’t stop, I’ll have to do something. And it’ll be a terrible, horrible, unimaginably awful thing. You don’t want to face that, I’m warning you. It would be devastating to your health, both mental and physical. You might not be able to take it. You should back down now while I’m in a lenient mood. Maybe I’ll let you off with just a slap on the wrist. But only if you stop now! Otherwise I’ll be forced to extreme measures, and you don’t want that, I’m telling you. My wrath is a terrible thing. You should become the caterpillar you first claimed to be and live a happy, caterpillar life, free from the stress of killing, subjugating, and torturing. Wouldn’t that be nice? You bet your buttons it would be. Just think about it for a bit. Caterpillars got it made! They just go around eating leaves and stuff, with their cute little fuzziness. Sure, there’s some danger with birds and stuff, but hey, you’ve got the skills, remember? You can whoop up on them birds and be the most awesome caterpillar ever. All the other caterpillars will be like “oh man, there’s Steve. He’s the most awesomest caterpillar of all time.” And you can just smile and wave.
Yeah, that would be awesome…
Y’know, forget about it Steve. Do whatever you want. I don’t care anymore. I’m gonna go be a caterpillar!
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Interpretation of Interrogation
(When we last left Fred, he and Jonathan had tried to check into a hotel and found that the attendant was in league with the PEANUT terrorists, but he was killed before he could offer information)
Fred blanched. “You’re kidding, right? He didn’t even say anything. They can’t have killed him right here in public.”
Jonathan looked about carefully. “He’s dead, Fred. Dead as a doornail.”
Fred glanced about nervously. “Then what’s stopping them from killing us now?”
As if the unseen assassins had heard him, a bullet slammed into the desk, just missing Fred’s head. He gave a little yelp of surprise and bolted for the doors. They opened while he was still a good twenty feet away so he poured on the speed. Then they changed their mind and closed just as he reached them, causing him to bang his head and fall back to the floor, dazed. But just for a moment. He jumped to his feet and began banging on the doors.
“Let me out!” he screamed. “They’re coming to get us! We’re all gonna die!”
“Fred,” Jonathan attempted to say more, but Fred cut him off.
“They’re gonna shoot us like pigs in a barrel!” He thought for a second. “Or something like that!”
Jonathan tried again. “Fred—“
Fred turned and placed his back against the door. “Why don’t they end it? Why!?”
“Fred!” Jonathan jumped forward and grabbed Fred by the shoulders. “Pull yourself together. We’re not going to die.”
Fred glared at him. “Oh yeah? How do you know?”
“Because we’re not dead yet. If they wanted us dead, I’m sure we would be corpses right now.”
Fred snorted. “Corpses don’t talk.”
Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “Exactly.”
“Oh…” Fred coughed. “I see.”
Jonathan let him go. “Now, will you please stop panicking?”
“Yes, of course.”
It was at that moment that the doors decided to open, and Fred stumbled out them backward. Rough hands grabbed him, rougher hands pulled a black hood over his face, still rougher hands shoved him in a car, and the roughest hands yet wacked him over the head with a heavy, blunt instrument. Actually, in the second before he lost consciousness Fred hoped it was blunt.
To his relief, when he awoke, his arms and legs were bound and he had a throbbing headache. Sure signs of being alive. The instrument had been blunt.
The hood was still over his head, but upon his first movement it was yanked off, exposing him to a blinding light right in his eyes.
A nasty, evil sounding voice chuckled. “This is a very simple situation. You answer our questions, you live. You don’t, you die.”
Fred sighed, his earlier feelings of panic mysteriously vanishing. “Yeah yeah, I got it. But you know that’s incredibly cliché, right?”
The voice chuckled again. “Of course. Why else do you think we set it all up this way? The people have expectations, why disappoint them?”
“Because you’re evil. It’s your job to disappoint people. Not to mention kill, maim, and otherwise harm them.”
The voice sighed. “Yes, of course, but you don’t get the same dramatic effect if you just run around killing people willy-nilly. There has to be a method and style to it. Like with that hotel attendant. Otherwise people will get bored and then we lose media coverage, and if there is no media coverage then no will know of our evil deeds.”
Fred thought for a second. “Good point. But do you have to be so cliché with it?”
“It’s this, or we feed you to the alligators for sport.”
“That’s just as bad,” Fred protested.
“All right then.” The light was shut off and the bag put back over his head. “Take him to the alligators.”
“No wait! The light and interrogation has so much more dramatic appeal than alligators, don’t you think?”
The voice laughed. “Doesn’t it just?” The bag was pulled off and the light shone again. “Now answer our questions or die.”
To be continued…
Fred blanched. “You’re kidding, right? He didn’t even say anything. They can’t have killed him right here in public.”
Jonathan looked about carefully. “He’s dead, Fred. Dead as a doornail.”
Fred glanced about nervously. “Then what’s stopping them from killing us now?”
As if the unseen assassins had heard him, a bullet slammed into the desk, just missing Fred’s head. He gave a little yelp of surprise and bolted for the doors. They opened while he was still a good twenty feet away so he poured on the speed. Then they changed their mind and closed just as he reached them, causing him to bang his head and fall back to the floor, dazed. But just for a moment. He jumped to his feet and began banging on the doors.
“Let me out!” he screamed. “They’re coming to get us! We’re all gonna die!”
“Fred,” Jonathan attempted to say more, but Fred cut him off.
“They’re gonna shoot us like pigs in a barrel!” He thought for a second. “Or something like that!”
Jonathan tried again. “Fred—“
Fred turned and placed his back against the door. “Why don’t they end it? Why!?”
“Fred!” Jonathan jumped forward and grabbed Fred by the shoulders. “Pull yourself together. We’re not going to die.”
Fred glared at him. “Oh yeah? How do you know?”
“Because we’re not dead yet. If they wanted us dead, I’m sure we would be corpses right now.”
Fred snorted. “Corpses don’t talk.”
Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “Exactly.”
“Oh…” Fred coughed. “I see.”
Jonathan let him go. “Now, will you please stop panicking?”
“Yes, of course.”
It was at that moment that the doors decided to open, and Fred stumbled out them backward. Rough hands grabbed him, rougher hands pulled a black hood over his face, still rougher hands shoved him in a car, and the roughest hands yet wacked him over the head with a heavy, blunt instrument. Actually, in the second before he lost consciousness Fred hoped it was blunt.
To his relief, when he awoke, his arms and legs were bound and he had a throbbing headache. Sure signs of being alive. The instrument had been blunt.
The hood was still over his head, but upon his first movement it was yanked off, exposing him to a blinding light right in his eyes.
A nasty, evil sounding voice chuckled. “This is a very simple situation. You answer our questions, you live. You don’t, you die.”
Fred sighed, his earlier feelings of panic mysteriously vanishing. “Yeah yeah, I got it. But you know that’s incredibly cliché, right?”
The voice chuckled again. “Of course. Why else do you think we set it all up this way? The people have expectations, why disappoint them?”
“Because you’re evil. It’s your job to disappoint people. Not to mention kill, maim, and otherwise harm them.”
The voice sighed. “Yes, of course, but you don’t get the same dramatic effect if you just run around killing people willy-nilly. There has to be a method and style to it. Like with that hotel attendant. Otherwise people will get bored and then we lose media coverage, and if there is no media coverage then no will know of our evil deeds.”
Fred thought for a second. “Good point. But do you have to be so cliché with it?”
“It’s this, or we feed you to the alligators for sport.”
“That’s just as bad,” Fred protested.
“All right then.” The light was shut off and the bag put back over his head. “Take him to the alligators.”
“No wait! The light and interrogation has so much more dramatic appeal than alligators, don’t you think?”
The voice laughed. “Doesn’t it just?” The bag was pulled off and the light shone again. “Now answer our questions or die.”
To be continued…
Monday, January 2, 2012
Steve Likes Socks, Pancakes, Crepes, and Cheeseburgers
Holy cow! I have no topic! I have absolutely no idea what I’m going to talk about now. Not one single, solitary idea. Guess it’s business as usual then, huh? I wish I could find topics easier, but topics are so elusive. They’re like clouds. They look solid and defined until you get up close. Then they go poof and laugh at you. I hates their guts. Why am I talking about ideas as though they are sentient beings? I must be having a nervous breakdown. Don’t anybody even think about saying that’s business as usual too.
Ahem, anyway. Let’s talk about socks. Yes, I did just say socks. If you think that there is nothing to say about socks, you are very wrong. Socks are deep and in depth things. They have this whole level of understanding most people can’t even imagine. Not to mention they keep your feet warm. Now that is a very important thing. Cold feet are no good in any situation. Just ask, uh, some famous dude who got cold feet and missed his opportune moment that would have made his world perfect. His name will live on in infamy, just don’t ask me what it is. I digress. I was talking about socks and their great depths and handiness. I do love a good pair of socks. We need socks. Without socks our feet would be much less comfortable. Now that would be a tragedy, because I like having comfortable feet. Uncomfortable feet are, how should I say, uncomfortable. Socks make feet comfortable. That is good. Socks are good. Oh yeah, they have this whole level of understanding beyond our imagination, did I mention that? I did? Okay good. Don’t forget that and don’t ask how I know, because if you forget I won’t repeat myself and if you ask I won’t answer.
Now forget socks, we’ve got more important things to get to. Like pancakes! Pancakes are tasty. Very tasty. But first you must spread them lavishly with butter and pour on the syrup. Lotsa butter, lotsa syrup, lotsa pancakes. Tastes just like candy! But don’t add any alcohol. That would be dangerous. Unless you also had crepes with you. The awesomeness of the crepes would cancel out the effect of the alcohol because it is simply not awesome enough. Because crepes are extremely awesome, not to mention really tasty. I would not advise anyone to try to spike a crepe. It would only end badly. For you, not the crepe for the crepe eater. Crepes are too awesome to get spiked. Spiking a crepe is like…like…like spiking an already spiked thing. It simply adds to what’s already there. In a crepes case, sheer awesomeness. And you can’t really add to that.
But there are things that are just as awesome as crepes, if not more so. My dog is one. My caterpillar is another. Did I ever tell you about my caterpillar? Oh, no, I suppose I couldn’t have seeing as how I just got him for Christmas. Well, his name is Steve, he is a caterpillar, and he is awesome. In fact, Steve is so super epic, I just might have to give him a whole blog post to himself sometime. Now I’m not making any promises, but you might see more of Steve later. Maybe. If I can think of his life story for you. All I got right now is that Steve likes socks, pancakes, crepes, and cheeseburgers. That is quite possibly enough, but not really...so we must move on.
Now that Christmas is over, there is only New Years to look forward to. Once that is gone…life will be bland again. The days will be so boring, so similar. Each day almost an exact replica of the previous one. How will I survive!?
Aha! I have the solution! I will open a chain of cheeseburger restaurants! I shall call it, Bob’s Burgers & Fred’s Fries! Let’s do this thing!
P.S. I now find that I wrote this post to early...New Years is over...time for the cheeseburgers! I hope you will all come a visit once we open up.
Ahem, anyway. Let’s talk about socks. Yes, I did just say socks. If you think that there is nothing to say about socks, you are very wrong. Socks are deep and in depth things. They have this whole level of understanding most people can’t even imagine. Not to mention they keep your feet warm. Now that is a very important thing. Cold feet are no good in any situation. Just ask, uh, some famous dude who got cold feet and missed his opportune moment that would have made his world perfect. His name will live on in infamy, just don’t ask me what it is. I digress. I was talking about socks and their great depths and handiness. I do love a good pair of socks. We need socks. Without socks our feet would be much less comfortable. Now that would be a tragedy, because I like having comfortable feet. Uncomfortable feet are, how should I say, uncomfortable. Socks make feet comfortable. That is good. Socks are good. Oh yeah, they have this whole level of understanding beyond our imagination, did I mention that? I did? Okay good. Don’t forget that and don’t ask how I know, because if you forget I won’t repeat myself and if you ask I won’t answer.
Now forget socks, we’ve got more important things to get to. Like pancakes! Pancakes are tasty. Very tasty. But first you must spread them lavishly with butter and pour on the syrup. Lotsa butter, lotsa syrup, lotsa pancakes. Tastes just like candy! But don’t add any alcohol. That would be dangerous. Unless you also had crepes with you. The awesomeness of the crepes would cancel out the effect of the alcohol because it is simply not awesome enough. Because crepes are extremely awesome, not to mention really tasty. I would not advise anyone to try to spike a crepe. It would only end badly. For you, not the crepe for the crepe eater. Crepes are too awesome to get spiked. Spiking a crepe is like…like…like spiking an already spiked thing. It simply adds to what’s already there. In a crepes case, sheer awesomeness. And you can’t really add to that.
But there are things that are just as awesome as crepes, if not more so. My dog is one. My caterpillar is another. Did I ever tell you about my caterpillar? Oh, no, I suppose I couldn’t have seeing as how I just got him for Christmas. Well, his name is Steve, he is a caterpillar, and he is awesome. In fact, Steve is so super epic, I just might have to give him a whole blog post to himself sometime. Now I’m not making any promises, but you might see more of Steve later. Maybe. If I can think of his life story for you. All I got right now is that Steve likes socks, pancakes, crepes, and cheeseburgers. That is quite possibly enough, but not really...so we must move on.
Now that Christmas is over, there is only New Years to look forward to. Once that is gone…life will be bland again. The days will be so boring, so similar. Each day almost an exact replica of the previous one. How will I survive!?
Aha! I have the solution! I will open a chain of cheeseburger restaurants! I shall call it, Bob’s Burgers & Fred’s Fries! Let’s do this thing!
P.S. I now find that I wrote this post to early...New Years is over...time for the cheeseburgers! I hope you will all come a visit once we open up.
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